


of you and me

by Baytree



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jango Fett Open Seasons (Comics), Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Misunderstandings, Qui-Gon Jinn Needs a Hug, Timeline What Timeline
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29442096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baytree/pseuds/Baytree
Summary: Jango Fett's actions at Galidraan has the Mandalorian Empire facing crippling retaliation from the Republic. To save his people, General Jaster Mereel concocts a desperate plan and offers himself to the Jedi. Cultural differences, mistranslations and misunderstandings abound.Jaster is not Mand'alor in this universe but still the leader of the Supercommandos. I'm ignoring the Apprentice books for the most part and basing Qui-Gon on his portrayal in TPM. For everything else, I'm mixing and matching canon, legends and head canon. This was supposed to be a simple PWP.Tags and other details will be updated as we go. Unbeta'd.Ch3 slightly delayed due to unexpected car breakdown and resulting RL complications. :(
Relationships: Jaster Mereel/Qui-Gon Jinn
Comments: 38
Kudos: 42





	1. Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> In which the author indulges in too much exposition and Qui-Gon is not okay. No tea was harmed in the making of this chapter.

“With all due respect to the Council -”

“Means little that does, coming from you, Master Jinn” Master Yoda interrupted tartly, thumping his cane against the floor for emphasis. From the set of the Grandmaster's ears his tart tone, Qui-Gon has no doubt it would have been his shin being thumped, rather than the floor, if not for the low table between them.

“The Council,” Mace interrupts smoothly, “agrees with you Master Jinn. This is far from ideal”

“But you still plan on going through with it.” 

“Yes.” Mace meets Qui-Gon's gaze calmly. His force presence sympathetic, but unyielding. Qui-Gon quirkes a brow but says nothing, careful to projecting as much serenity and patience into the force as he can. He knew how this game is played.

“We made several mistakes at Galidraan. Yes, Captain Fett made the...” Mace pauses for a moment, visibly considering and rejection several options before continuing “...questionable and highly illegal decision to attack rather than surrender but the resulting massacre was completely and utterly preventable.” The chair creaks as Mace leans forward to emphasize the point, “We could, and should, have done better. We, the Jedi Order, mishandled the situation. Badly”

All three masters fall silent. The immediate fallout from that _mishandling_ had resulted in more than a few High Councilors resigning their positions. With the death of Master Tyvokka in the Stark-Hyperspace War the empty seats on the High Council had outnumbered the occupied ones for awhile. As a result, Mace and several other Masters had been named to the High Council far sooner than expected. 

Mace's promotion to the position of Master of the Order had raised more than a few eyebrows, or equivalent facial features. Qui-Gon doubts they had anything to worry about. For all Mace's comparative youth, he was very much of the Old Guard and Qui-Gon judged it unlikely that Mace would push for any true change. 

Yoda's voice, heavy with grief and resignation, breaks the silence. “Too ready to attack, my former Padawan was. For a Jedi, a last resort, killing should be.” He seems oddly shrunken and muted in the force as he stares down at the hands on the head of his cane. It was not often Qui-Gon saw his Grandmaster reveal vulnerability and never to such a degree as this. The depth of weariness and sorrow is startling and Qui-Gon is suddenly and starkly reminded of just how _old_ the Grand Master of the Jedi Order is. As infuriating and meddlesome as Yoda and his abrasive humor could be, it is painful and disturbing to see him this way. 

And Yoda was far from the only Jedi hurting. Bitter resentment wells up as Qui-Gon thinks of the surviving strike team members. Of the handful that had survived the battle, several had left the order outright while the remainder had all requested reassignment to one of the various branches of the ServiceCorp. Usually to the most grueling, demanding and isolated posting they could find. 

The various healers were worried, to put it mildly. 

As for Dooku- 

Qui-Gon fights back a grimace. His former Master looked and felt shattered and numb in the Force. It reminded Qui-Gon of the moment just after an injury, when the the body was momentarily shocked beyond it's ability to report pain, and you had an instant of perfect clarity to realize just how bad the damage was and just how much it was going to hurt when that pain finally hit.

“I think,” Qui-Gon says mildly, rising slowly from his chair with a humorless smile, “that I'm going to need a cup of tea for this conversation. Would either of you like anything?” The other two Masters make the appropriate responses and Qui-Gon retreats the short distance to the food prep area. There he rinses out the kettle, refills it and sets it to heat. The movements familiar and comforting.

Qui-Gon had never been particularly close to his Master. His years as Dooku's Padawan had not been a happy time in his life. As a Padawan he had found Master Dooku to be cold, severe, unrelentingly critical and caustic enough to etch durasteel. It was only in lightsaber combat that the two of them ever seemed to find any common ground. There at least, they had been well matched. 

And yet, for all the man's faults and for all Qui-Gon's conflicted feelings towards him, he could think of few Jedi he trusted half so much. Dooku's cool assurance, his steady strength and brilliant mind had seen them through many a complex and dangerous mission. 

Qui-Gon takes his time, his movements unhurried and almost meditative, as he collects mugs and strainers and measures out the different varieties of tea. Absently, he makes a note to himself to move the more frequently used and heavier items down a shelf or two, Obi-Wan was rather on the short side. Qui-Gon's humorless smile makes another brief appearance, he supposed height was another area he and Dooku were well matched. 

It didn't matter that Dooku wasn't the warmest being in the galaxy, being a Jedi wasn't a popularity contest, Qui-Gon thinks tiredly, and it was essential for Jedi to cultivate emotional detachment. Feeling too strongly for the plight of everybeing you encountered either left you swamped in guilty and regret for those you didn't help or burned out from taking on too much. For their own sanity, never mind the good of a mission, a Jedi needed to be able to remain detached.

Dooku had certainly reminded him of the need for detachment often enough. Being strong in the Living Force means Qui-Gon was particularly vulnerable to feeling too much and being influenced by those feelings to act recklessly rather than efficiently.

 _Acting in such a way is selfish and self serving,_ Dooku had been fond of lecturing. _It assuages your feelings of guilt and a grants false feeling of achievement but accomplishes little. What of the others? Does their suffering matter less simply because they aren't here? Bah. Better lose some battles and win the war. What do those battles matter if the war is lost and those positions fall regardless? Fix the big and leave the little to others. You'll do more good that way rather than indulging in your selfish impulses._

Qui-Gon recalls the lecture, one of many, with a familiar pang of guilt. He understood what his old Master meant, and he could agree with it in abstract, but in practice – well, there was a reason he was known for his collection of pathetic lifeforms, as Dooku like to call them, and Qui-Gon had accepted long ago that he would forever fall short of Master Dooku's expectations. 

And now the Jedi High Council had failed Dooku. Dooku, with his lifetime of complete and unquestioning faith in the wisdom of the Jedi High Council. The same unquestioning faith that had long been a sore point between Qui-Gon and Dooku. Qui-Gon had lost count of the number of times he had wished Dooku would realize that Council members where just as fallible as any other Jedi but he had never - 

An insistent *ding* cuts through his thoughts as the kettle announces the water has reached the set temperature. Qui-Gon pours it over the strainer full of leaves in his own mug before setting the water to heat further. Both Mace and Yoda's choices required higher temperatures than his own selection.

He had never wanted Dooku to realize it like this. Never like this.

And the High Council had had no reason to question the report from the Governor of Galidraan. After all, what sane being would offer such a spectacularly stupid lie? It wouldn't hold up for more than a standard day, if not less, after the initial confrontation. 

Clearly the Jedi had once again underestimated the sheer stupidity and gullibility of corrupt political officials. 

They had certainly underestimated Tor Vizsla. How the leader of Death Watch had managed to convince the Governor of Galidraan that the deception would remain undiscovered, Qui-Gon would dearly like to know. Unfortunately, the Governor had committed suicide, or so said the report, before he could be questioned so there would be no answers from him.

However he had done it, Tor Vizsla had convinced the Governor Of Galidraan to send an official plea for aid to the Jedi. The request had claimed that a large faction of Death Watch, a terrorist organization of Mandalorians, was butchering civilians and kidnapping children. 

Yes, Master Dooku had made little effort to deescalate the situation beyond his initial call for surrender but why should he? He had been told by both the Republic and the Jedi Council that he was facing down Death Watch, a dangerous group of terrorists from Mandalor. A group that idealized the times in their history when Mandalorians were savage and brutal raiders, responsible for multiple genocides and atrocities. A group that looked at the bloodiest and cruelest atrocities in their culture's history and said, _“This! This is our proud heritage and this is what we wish to be again!”_

The kettle dings again, pulling Qui-Gon from his grim thoughts. With a resigned expression, he pours the almost boiling water into Yoda's mug, being careful not to inhale the uh – _pungent_ aroma. Qui-Gon could never decide if his Grandmaster's taste in consumables was on ongoing practical joke or if it was genuine. Knowing Yoda, it could be either or both. This time he sets the water all the way to boil.

Yes, Dooku's wording had been highhanded and abrupt, his Padawan's even more so, but for all the abrasiveness of the demands, they were not unreasonable. Fett and his company had been operating on a Republic planet, under a Republic contract, and subject to Republic Law. Even if Captain Fett had somehow won the battle, he would have gained nothing and lost everything. Just as he had now.

Qui-Gon couldn't keep back a grimace of distaste at the thought of Komari Vosa. True, she was exceptional with a lightsaber but she was severely lacking in every other quality that made a good Jedi. And now it looked like she would never be a Jedi. Qui-Gon is certain he was far from the only member of the order to give a very well hidden sigh of relief at that news. 

Sithspit, it was easy to say the Jedi should have done better but it was _Fett_ who had decided to open fire rather than – well, rather than doing just about anything other than ordering his men to fire. In his lust for battle, or simply out of panic, the fool had murdered almost an entire strike team of Jedi, his own men, and left the entire Mandalorian Empire in a precarious legal position facing crushing repercussions and death via bureaucracy. For all the dramatic name, the Mandalorian Empire was neither a large, nor terribly profitable, territory. Certainly not one that could afford the pressure the republic was looking to bring to bear in retaliation. 

The kettle dings a final time and Qui-Gon pours the boiling water into Mace's mug. 

The irony was that if the Mandalorians had surrendered then the situation, well, it wouldn't be truly reversed, but Mandalorian Empire would have been in a position to pressure the Senate for concessions. 

But Captain Fett _had_ ordered his men to fire. He _had_ killed six Jedi with his bare hands and then, somehow, managed to survive the entire massacre only to disappear. The Senate was using Captain Fett's disappearance to their fullest political advantage, with little thought of justice one way or the other.

Which brought them to where they were now. And the surprising *proposal* that had been sent directly to the Jedi Order.

Deciding he has delayed long enough, Qui-Gon loads everything onto a tray and returns to the table where Mace and Yoda have been speaking quietly. Despite the grim topic he can't help but feel a spark of mischief as he hands each master their respective mug with an carefully bland expression. The mugs are mismatched and _spectacularly_ ugly. Yoda slants him an amused look while Mace refuses to show so much as a flicker of a reacting, which is a reaction in and of itself. 

Qui-Gon hides his smile in his own suitably hideous mug.

Mace clears his throat pointedly “The Senate is using Galidraan, and Fett's disappearance, as an excuse to try and break the Mandalorian Empire through sanctions and concessions. All at the expense of the Mandalorian people. We must do what we can to limit their suffering. If we can mitigate the retribution from Republic, it is our duty to do so. So far, this is one of the few ways to intervene. If you are willing” Mace looks expectantly at Qui-Gon.

Resigned, Qui-Gon closes his eyes. Breathes in. Breathes out. Works to set aside the dread and worry that had become his constant companion since Yoda had finally maneuvered him into taking on poor Obi-Wan as his Padawan.

Yoda's meddling had already exposed the boy to hardship and suffering far beyond what any Padawan or initiate his age should ever face. Obi-Wan viewed his apprenticeship to Qui-Gon with relief and a joy that was as humbling as it was terrifying but Qui-Gon knew better. He had failed Xanatos. He should not be trusted with another Padawan. He understood and accepted his failing. Why did Yoda insist on meddling?

Training keeps his breathing and his force presence steady as the anger and frustration over Yoda's actions, his disregard for Qui-Gon's wishes and Obi-Wan's future, rise up. 

_Acknowledge it. Set it aside. It's a problem for later. Focus on the here and now._

Another breath and Qui-Gon sinks into the clear, calm of light meditation. Focusing on the feel of the Force, he considers the proposal, rather literal in this case, that had brought the Head of the Order and the Grand Master of the Order, to this private meeting in Qui-Gon's quarters.

The proposal under consideration is just that, an actual proposal. Based on some very obscure, and in some cases, rather archaic, legal precedents and loopholes in Mandalorian law, Republic law and the charter between the Jedi and the Republic – Qui-Gon was astonished the Mandalorians had managed to find some of the relevant documents – it would allow the Mandalorians to make reparations directly to the Jedi Order. If Qui-Gon accepted, the Order could rule the matter closed and the Senate would lose the most of it's leverage against the Mandalorian Empire.

As much as it felt like the plot to a particularly bad holonovel, the Order's legal experts were surprisingly confident it would work. Worst case, they said, it was more than enough to tie the matter up in the judicial system until they all died of old age. They had also passed along a request for an introduction to the individual, or individuals, responsible for the research behind this particularly twisty bit of legalese. Qui-Gon wasn't sure if he should be amused or worried.

All in all, it was a rather convenient solution. 

_And all I have to do_ , thought Qui-Gon with something approaching hysteria, _is wed and bed the father of the man who slaughtered his way through an entire Jedi strike team._

Both the original document from the Mandalorians and the analysis from the legal experts had agreed on _that_ particular point. Qui-Gon takes a sip of his tea to cover his distress. He did not want to do this. But who else was there? Rael, his lineage brother, had left the Order to serve as Lord Regent of Pijal, Komari wasn't a suitable candidate for several reasons and Dooku himself? No. Just no.

Qui-Gon thought of the Senate, condemning the actions the Galidraan Governor, mouthing empty platitudes over the tragedy, while eagerly using the massacre, the grief and death, to gather more power for themselves. Shrugging off the additional harm they knew they were causing. So long as they got what they wanted, the rest of the galaxy, including the people of Mandalor, could suffer and die as far as the rich and powerful were concerned. 

And people wondered why he was so at ease with many of his criminal and underworld contacts. Few of them were half so vile as the average politician and most were far more honest. 

What of General Mereel? Had he offered of his own free will or was he being pressured into this? What kind of man was he? Republic Intelligence likely had a complete dossier on the man but there was no way the Order could ask for a copy without raising unwanted questions. 

For this to work, they needed to present it to the Republic Senate as a done deal, with documents signed and marriage consummated. That meant acting quickly and quietly.

Gio-Gon considers what few facts they have on General Mereel. They could assume he was as good in a fight as his son. You didn't get to be a member of the Mandalorian Supercommandos, never mind their leader, without being an exceptional fighter. 

Mereel was also credited with encoding, ratifying and enforcing the reforms that the Ithullan genocide had started. Master Nu was working on getting her hands on a copy of this Supercommando Codex but was unsure when she's acquire copy, never mind finish an accurate translation.

That was hopeful but Qui-Gon had know too many people who said one thing and did another to put much stock in it being indicative of Mereel's character.

And truthfully, Quii-Gon's answer to this proposal didn't depend on what kind of man Mereel was, nor how eagerly or grudgingly he came to this marriage. Qui-Gon could would not refuse an opportunity out of fear when the opportunity to prevent so much suffering.

The only true question was, would this make things better or worse? 

The Force offers him no answer.

With a resigned sigh Qui-Gon opens his eyes. 

“I do not believe the Jedi are as culpable in this matter as you do Master Windu. But,” he continues, forestalling any arguments from the other Masters, “I do agree that the people of Mandalor need protection and I am willing to do my part in helping them.” He keeps his voice steady and gaze serene. “If the Council is sure this will work, then I will accept.”

Yoda smacking his cane into the floor. “Then move forward, this marriage will!” 

Qui-Gon stared down into his tea, how in all the galaxy was he going to explain this to Obi-Wan?


	2. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Qui-Gon has many _feelings_ , a makeover and a plan. What could possibly go wrong?   
> Also, Obi-Wan is a cinnamon roll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter but I'm already behind my posting schedule. Next up, Jaster. He was supposed to be in this chapter but it kinda got out of hand so he gets his own. I will TRY to have Ch 3 posted by next Wednesday.

Coruscant is never silent. The noise from speeders and other vehicles, the construction and the machinery needed to keep the giant city planet running, along with the trillions of beings going about their daily lives, creates a constant background of ever changing sound that can be heard even from atop the Jedi Temple.

The enormous ziggurat of Coruscant Jedi Temple rises up over the surrounding buildings. It's square rooftop, broader than most Coruscant blocks, crowned with five towers. One at each of the four corners with the fifth, the tallest, at the exact center of the great square roof. 

Qui-Gon glances at the closest tower and raises a hand to his newly trimmed beard, hiding a slight smile. He can't decide if it's ironic or fitting that his marriage will be held at the Tower of Reassignment. Granted, the location was chosen due to practical concerns rather than any attempt at symbolism. But, intended or not, the symbolism certainly isn't lost on him and he doesn't bother trying to keep the amusement out of his Force presence. The resulting sidelong glances, ranging from disapproval to bemusement and concern, only serve to deepen that amusement. 

The northeastern quadrant, where he and the other Jedi are currently standing, is the domain of the Tower of Reassignment. It is also one of the few sections of the Temple proper that is both open to the public and equipped with spacious plazas that double as landing spaces for larger transport vehicles. And, as several of their group had pointed out, it's a customary place to welcome outside delegations. Not only was the area well supplied with security, using it should help avoid arousing suspicion. Or so Qui-Gon and the others hoped. Trying to hide the visit, or use any of the normally restricted hangars, would simply give rise to even more than the usual speculation and rumors. 

The impending arrival of the Mandalorian delegation had certainly sparked a fair bit of curiosity among the residents of the Temple district, Jedi and non-Jedi alike. Most had guessed that the visit was part of a effort to improve relations between the Jedi and the Mandalorians after Galidraan. So far, no one outside their group seemed to have realized that the meeting would be anything more than the normal tentative overtures and meaningless pleasantries of initial negotiations. But then, the Jedi committing to a political marriage with a Mandalorian in an effort to sabotage the Senate's political attack on the Mandalorian Empire would be a bit far fetched for even the most devoted gossip and conspiracy theorist to believe.

Still, Qui-Gon considered it something of a minor miracle they'd managed to keep their plans quiet given the number of people aware of the full details. In addition to the High Council members, there were the Archivists who had been consulted, most of the Temple Guards, himself and Obi-Wan. The Council had been opposed to Qui-Gon informing Obi-Wan about the upcoming marriage but Qui-Gon had refused to budge on the matter and done his best stubborn bantha impersonation. After all, what was the point in having a reputation unless you used it on occasion? The High Council had _eventually_ given in.

Obi-Wan had taken the news surprisingly well. And, despite the Council's misgivings, he proved Qui-Gon's trust well founded by not breathing a word of it to anyone. At least, not verbally. Qui-Gon hid another smile. The furtive excitement and guilt Obi-Wan had been radiating all but screamed _'I have a secret!'_. Something they'd have to work on. 

Or rather, he corrects himself uneasily, something Obi-Wan will have to work on with his real Master once Qui-Gon arranged for him to be taken on by a more suitable Jedi. Until then, Qui-Gon will just provide what guidance he can and hope he doesn't do more harm than good. He tries not to think of glowing golden eyes and the sickening feel of dark rage.

More than ever, Qui-Gon misses the support and comradery of his closest friends. And not just for the help they could provide Obi-Wan. He misses the support for himself as well. Given the need for secrecy Qui-Gon hasn't been able to confide in them about his upcoming marriage to this, likely hostile, Mandalorian. He understands, and agrees, with the necessity of the secrecy but he can't help but feel their absence rather sharply just now. Another one of his many failings.

Well, he'll just have to distract himself by anticipating their reactions to finding out. 

Rael, Dooku's previous Padawan, was going to laugh himself sick before sending the most inappropriate and embarrassing gift baskets he could find. Qui-Gon imagines the disreputable former Jedi's reaction wistfully. He misses his old friend and mentor dearly. They haven't seen each other in person since Rael left the order. Between the Order's political neutrality and Rael's position as regent, they have to be careful with direct contact. As a result, they've mostly been exchanging news and messages through mutual contacts outside the order. For this though, Qui-Gon promises himself, he'd contact Rael directly.

As for Tahl, she'd be would be worried when she found out but she'd hide it behind her usual mocking and teasing. Qui-Gon finds he's looking forward to it. Not that he'd ever admit it, that would ruin the whole game after all. 

Tahl is another dear friend that he saw far too rarely, although for very different reasons than Rael. Originally, it had been because the Council had _concerns_ over the depth of their friendship and worked to keep them apart as young Knights. Now, Tahl is usually stationed at the Temple while he is almost always anywhere but the temple. He had hoped to spend more time with her this visit but it wasn't to be. Even now, she and her Padawan Bant, were preparing to leave on an extended peacekeeping mission.

The timing was rather suspicious, especially given that Tahl usually undertook short missions and Qui-Gon wonders sourly if the Council is once again _taking steps_. If so, was it out of concern over their attachment or concern that his husband-to-be might take offense to the presence of an old lover? He grits his teeth in irritation and anger over the thought.

At his side, Obi-Wan shifts uneasily and glances over in concern. Qui-Gon shoves the unpleasant emotions aside before resting a hand on the boy's shoulder, projecting _affection/reassurance_ down the training bond. 

Keeping the thoughts carefully hidden, Qui-Gon berates himself for his carelessness. He _has_ to be more mindful. He'd forgotten how much easier it was to pick up emotions through a training bond. 

Obi-Wan shoots him a blinding grin and a sense of _joy/affection_ through their training bond before schooling his face and Force presence back to watchful stillness.

Qui-Gon notes the quickly muffled flickers of gentle _amusement/fondness/approval_ from several of the other Masters around him. 

Well, if there was one upside to all this, aside from potentially saving Mandalor from Fett's actions, it's that Obi-Wan has already come into close contact with other Jedi Masters. Several of whom were either without a Padawan or have a Master in their lineage looking for a new Padawan.

Qui-Gon suspects that Yoda's _meddling_ began long before sending Obi-Wan to Bandomeer. It would certainly explain Obi-Wan's reputation as a problematic student. A reputation that is clearly exaggerated at best and outright manufactured at worst.

Qui-Gon is baffled, and more than a little irritated, by his fellow Jedi's inability to see the potential in the boy. It's rather troubling to realize how many simply accepted what they were told about the initiates rather than looking more closely and forming their own opinions. 

Clearly, Qui-Gon thought fiercely, Galidraan was just one of many warning signs that the Jedi were becoming dangerously complacent. 

No matter, he would repair the damage done to Obi-Wan's reputation and help him land a suitable Master. He steadfastly ignores the treacherous little voice that asks If they failed to see his potential the first time, how can they be a suitable Master? Qui-Gon was not a suitable choice and he would make sure Obi-Wan found a better Master.

So far, it seemed all Qui-Gon needed to do was make sure Obi-Wan had the opportunities he needed to prove himself. The current marriage scheme had been an unexpected boon in that regard. 

Obi-Wan was determined, almost desperate, to be helpful and he had become oddly invested in this whole arranged marriage plot. He applied himself to helping Qui-Gon prepare for the marriage with an earnest intensity that was as humbling as it was endearing.

It was also rather like being trampled by a herd of banthas. 

Qui-Gon isn't sure if Obi-Wan recruited the other Jedi to his scheming or if they had recruited him. Either way, he found himself, or rather his wardrobe and personal grooming, the target of a startlingly _ruthless_ campaign waged by the combined forces of his fellow Jedi and his new Padawan. 

He'd watched in horror and fascination as his Padawan and Masters Giiett, Gallia, Sifo-Dyas and Koon had deliberated at length over the most flattering clothing and grooming options for him after tossing most of his old cloths down a garbage chute. Gallia, with her diplomatic expertise and eye for art, had been an obvious choice. Giiett and Sifo-Dyas had likely been recruited simple because they were human males. Qui-Gon would bet a substantial stack of credits that Koon had invited himself along for the amusement of watching Qui-Gon's suffering and the chance to banter with Giiett. 

At some point Master Yoda had wandered in and made disparaging comments over spending so much time and energy on such superficial concerns. “Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter!” he'd intoned.

Obi-Wan had tentatively responded by pointing out that Mereel wasn't Force sensitive and would only be able to see the crude matter. Before Yoda could respond, Master Giiett launched into a story about the latest prank he'd pull on several Senior Padawans in an effort to teach them the dangers of relying on the Force alone. Master Gallia had followed that up with a lecture on the ways appearance could be used to one's advantage in political and diplomatic maneuvering. Yoda had looked more than a little disgruntled by that point.

Seeing his Grand Master so thwarted was an image Qui-Gon would cherish until he became one with the force. Possibly even long after that.

It almost made up for the rest of the ordeal. _Almost._

In retrospect, as much as he misses their support, perhaps it wasn't entirely a bad thing that neither Rael nor Tahl had been there. The though of how much more embarrassing the entire thing would have been if they had been available to conspiring with Obi-Wan and the Councilors was downright terrifying. 

And that was far from the only project Obi-Wan had thrown himself into. Qui-Gon's quarters were deemed unsuitable, by both the Council and Temple Security, due to their size and location. Qui-Gon had been given a list of suitable alternatives to choose from and had planned to simply picking the one that felt right. Obi-Wan, however, had a very different approach.

Qui-Gon had found him taking notes while various members of their little cabal debated the pros and cons of different room locations and layouts with startling seriousness. 

Once they had selected a suitable suite of rooms Obi-Wan had begun fussing over the wall colors, the furnishings and their arrangement. He expressed concern with how barren, even by Jedi standards, the quarters were.

Qui-Gon curtailed most of Obi-Wan's more _enthusiastic_ decorating ideas by pointing out that leaving things at the bare minimum gave Mereel space for his own choices and would likely make him feel more at home in the long run. Obi-Wan had perked up considerably at that. Qui-Gon then further distracted Obi-Wan by putting him in charge of creating a welcome packet, under supervision of Temple Security, full of (hopefully) relevant information for Mereel.

For his part, Qui-Gon, was becoming increasingly worried about the amount of emotion Obi-Wan was investing into making Mereel feel welcome. He'd even dug through the archives for a primer on the Mandalorian language! Given the age of the text the Force alone knew how accurate it still was, assuming it had been accurate to begin with. The possibility that Mereel might respond to his Padawan's kindhearted enthusiasm with scorn or cruelty was - 

Well, just thinking about it had Qui-Gon making plans to sabotage the man's jet-pack and toss him off the nearest balcony. He allowed himself a moment to indulge in the murderous fantasy before letting it fade away with a sigh. He wouldn't actually do it. There were too many lives at stake and revenge was not the Jedi way. 

Qui-Gon made sure to have a gentle word with Obi-Wan, reminding him that this was a less than ideal situation and they didn't know anything about the kind of man Mereel was so Obi-Wan shouldn't take it to heart if Mereel's response was less than postive.

Force, he wished he knew more about the man and he hoped he had the good sense to at least be diplomatic with Obi-Wan. Thoughts of towers and malfunctioning jet-packs came to mind again.

He'd just have to protect Obi-Wan as best he could.

Even if it was from himself.

This marriage gave him the perfect excuse to encourage Obi-Wan to spend as much time with other Masters as he can. By the end of the year the boy should have his pick of Masters and by then he'll have realized a different Master really is for the -

A change in the ever present background noise interrupts Qui-Gon's thoughts and he shifts his attention back to the present.

 _There._ A shuttle had pulled away from the regular airlanes and was heading directly toward them. 

The shuttle, a newer model with discretely reinforced armor, hovers for a moment over the plaza that doubles as one of the larger landing zones, before settling with a whine of repulsor brakes and landing gear.

Qui-Gon takes a slow, deep breath, willing his suddenly uneasy stomach to settle and his racing heart to slow. Distantly, he notes that his hands are shaking.

The ramp lowers and a small group of armored Mandalorians stalk down it. The thump of armored boots audible over the background noise.

Only one isn't wearing a helmet and Qui-Gon recognizes him from the handful of images in the hastily compiled and woefully inadequate file on the man. Jaster Mereel.

He's a lean, hard looking man with fierce beak of a nose and a grim, almost angry expression. Not as tall as Qui-Gon but not short either. It's hard to tell if his hair is black or simply a shade of brown so dark it makes no difference. His complexion reminds Qui-Gon of Rael or Master Windu's new Padawan, Depa. 

Despite the distance between them Qui-Gon finds himself searching the man's face for any hint of warmth or kindness. 

He doesn't see any.

It doesn't matter.

Willing his hands steady, Qui-Gon dons his most serene expression and glides forward to great the man he's about to marry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone wants clarification on what details are Canon, Legends, Fanon or Headcanon, please don't hesitate to ask! I enjoy that kind of nerdery.
> 
> Comments and Kudos are writing fuel. If there's something you particularly like, let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> Tea: For Yoda's tea, think Valerian Root tea. The stuff tastes fine but it is PUNGENT!
> 
> Military Ranks: Qui-Gon is currently using the basic translations for the Mandalorian ranks rather than the Mandalorian words. That is deliberate. On a related note, my goodness but the SW universe does weird things to military ranks.
> 
> Mace: I like Mace but he's probably going to come across as a bit of a humorless ass in this fic. He's been fast tracked straight to Head of Order due to several emergencies and is dealing with the fallout of said emergencies plus the normal workload of his new job. He's doing his best but is a little overwhelmed right now.
> 
> Sorry for the giant vomit of exposition that is the first chapter. It's been a loooong time since I wrote fanfic and I'm rusty. 
> 
> Comments are writing fuel.


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